So called Chaos
by qsmadness007
Summary: Based on an idea taken from Whipper at the Shield Fanfiction Archive. Each chapter of the story is based on a song of an album. This one being Socalled chaos by Alanis Morissette
1. Eight Easy steps

So-Called Chaos  
Disclaimer/AN: These characters do not belong to me. The idea of this was taken from an idea from Whipper at The Shield Fanfiction Archive. It is a series of stories all of which are connected by an album. Each part of the series is based one of the songs from the album. I am going to try to use as many different people/ships as possible.  
The album is "So-Called Chaos" By Alanis Morissette, so obviously the lyrics posted do not belong to me.

Thanks to mravensblood, and kosmickway for beta-ing.

1. Eight Easy Steps

_how to lie to yourself and thereby to everyone else   
how to keep smiling when you're thinking of killing yourself  
how to know them all the too well by going with them  
how to stay stuck in your life hating them_

I'll teach you all this in 8 easy steps  
In the course of a lifetime, I never forgot  
I'll show you how to in 8 easy steps  
I'll show you how leaderships were taught by the best

Nathan stared at himself in the mirror, as he counted the veins in his eyes, and realized he was bursting blood vessels in his eyes again. He felt like shit, and didn't want to go into work today.Watching the razor in his hand; he wondered if he took the blade out and cut himself if it would hurt.

He turned the water on, and washed the rest of the shaving cream off his face. No one would notice if he isn't fully shaved. Nathan was not even sure why he was even going to go into work today. Lately, he had no desire to work on any cases.

The house seemed empty without Michelle, and it seemed weird that it had been six months since she left. The divorce had become final yesterday. He hadn't even told anyone that the divorce was that close to being finished. He hadn't even told John, and John had been his friend and partner for as long as he could remember.

He threw water on his face, and walked out of the bathroom. Nathan knew he wouldn't tell them though. Before he left the house he would plaster a smile on his face and go through the day pretending as if nothing was wrong.


	2. Out is through

2. Out is through  
Every time that I'm confused, I think there must be easier ways  
Every time our horns are locked, I'm towel throwing   
Every time we're at a loss, we've bolted from difficulty  
Anytime we're in stalemate, a final bowing

This one is dedicated to aussiehottiemjm. From John's POV:

That red head! She drives me crazy. I'm lucky though--we've been dating for five months, and she hasn't been seriously mad at me yet. It's just these vain little fights that we keep having. It makes me wonder if the advice about not dating co-workers is true. I'm on my way to talk to her now, to see what she is mad about this time. I'm not looking forward to it, since the fights seem to be about random things. Some of them are my fault, so I can't blame it all on her.

When I get to her office, I peek my head in. Rachel is tapping her pencil against the desk in concentration, she has a pen tucked behind her ear holding her hair back on one side, and the rest of it is draped around her face, causing almost a reddish halo to form around her face. She is so cute, if I didn't know we were fighting, I would totally come in, and close the door and the blinds.

Rachel glances up at me in that cute _I Love you, but I loathe you_ glare that she has when we are fighting.

I give her a broad smile. "So, what did I do this time to cause your scorn, Rachie?"

She pulls something off the ground, behind the desk, and throws it in my direction. It is a small white plush goat. "This is not a funny gift?"

"I thought you would like it, it is our 5th month anniversary." I pretend to pout, although I can't believe she didn't like the gift. I thought Rachel would find it humorous and fitting.

She walks around the desk. She goes and closes the door to her office. She looks straight into my eyes, and then kisses my nose. "It was very cute, Detective Grant."

"So, were you picking a fake fight with me again?" I raise my eyebrow.

"Maybe I just date you for the makeup sex." Rachel says with a sexy smirk, before pulling me into a deep kiss.


	3. Excuses

Part 3

Excuses

_"No one can have it all, see I have to, they want me to  
And I can't let them down, I will never be happy."_

He paced the length of the living room, wearing only his pajamas and a small watch with a silver band that he got as a birthday gift two months ago. His shoulder length hair was tied neatly in Zen like fashion with a small black ribbon. He was trying to be as quiet as possible-- his boyfriend was trying to take a nap after a hard day. But he's nervous though, he has a dinner presentation to a few clients in a couple of hours, and he is starting to get paranoid that it could go horribly wrong. The drawings for the building aren't that good, he thinks, and he worries that it's probably not at all what the clients want.

He feels a soft tap on his shoulder and hears the concerned voice a moment later. "Will you give it a rest, Rich?"

Rich turns to face a pair of sensual soft brown eyes, and frowns. "Geo? "He frowns. "I'm sorry...I didn't mean to wake you, I know you just got off a 36 hour shift, and …"

"It's okay," George cuts Rich off by putting a finger against Rich's lips. He moves his hand, and musses with Rich's hair a little, so that a few strands come loose from the ponytail, and leave a few streaks across his face. Pushing them away, George kisses Rich's forehead tenderly. "I know you're nervous. You always get this way before presentations."

"I only do it because…"

George plants a soft kiss on Rich's lips. "Take a deep breath, architecture man."

Being called that name makes Rich giggle a little, then he frowns.

"My drawings are really bad, though." The paranoia of being a failure plays at the edge of his mind. He felt even worse for waking George up but he fears so intently that the clients were going to make him redo the drawings, or even take their business away from Langley and Langley that he couldn't help but panic. If they were to take their business away, it would be quite possible that he would lose his job. Then he would feel even worse because George, who usually paid for the majority of everything in their life, would be paying for everything.

"No, they aren't. I know it is hard sometimes not to listen to the negative things in your head, but they aren't true, baby." George pulls Rich into a deep hug.

Rich is about to say something but a small orange and white ball of fur walks into the room, rubbing against George's and Rich's legs, with a loud "Mew!"

"See Job knows you will do great as well." George says with a laugh, putting his forehead on Rich's, and giving him a soft smile.

Laughing softly, Rich agrees. "I'm sure you're right."

"Remember the first rule," George teases as he pulls his lover close to him, "is I am always right."


	4. doth I protest too much

Part 4  
Doth I protest too much

"I'm not threatened by every pair of legs you watch go by.  
I don't cringe when you stare at women, it's a thing called guy."

The faucet drips as Grace set the plate and the spoon in the drying rack by the sink. She tried to tighten the handles, and the flow of water stopped. Then it continued its mournful tapping in the basin.

Grace dried her hands on a dish towel and turned her gaze around the kitchen. The empty dinning room table weighed heavy on her heart. She remembered that only four months ago, it had never been empty when she looked at it-- or if it was there had at least been sounds of other human beings in the house.

Grace missed the house sounding like a family. She could become bitter and angry and blame it all on Morgan and his haste to get her out of his life, but she wasn't quite sure that it was totally his fault.

She remembered the first time that Morgan had introduced her to Gwen. She had pretended she was happy that he had found a friend--one he seemed to enjoy checking out and spending time with.

She wasn't sure what Morgan and Gwen were telling Jason. He was spending the weekend with his father, which meant he was seeing a lot of Gwen, since she and Morgan seemed to be inseparable. He had even bought Gwen to one of the meetings with their divorce lawyers.

Grace wondered why she hadn't seen that 23 years of marriage had become so unimportant to Morgan. Why had he been so willing to leave her for a younger model? How had he had the gall to suggest that she abort the baby that had been growing inside her for the last few months? She placed her hand on her stomach as if she could start an early spiritual bond.

She wished the baby would hurry up and arrive so that she at least had some company. Grace didn't even have her poodles any more. Footzie had died a year ago, and Morgan had claimed Fluffie and taken her to his new place. Grace's lawyer had told her she could fight it if she wanted to, but Grace didn't want to fight; She wanted things to go back to normal and to forget the divorce all together

Grace was beginning to forget what normal felt like. It now seemed as if the strings holding her life together were unraveling at the same time. Everything was so twisted that she wasn't even sure which parts of her life coming apart were her fault. Were they her fault or were they just destined?

Maybe She could argue that she drove Morgan away by working too much, by complaining sometimes, or any other number of reasons. She could also blame him for breaking it up. She had tried to do almost anything he wanted, except giving up her job. Grace couldn't do that. Her job was part of who she was, and she loved it. She saw no reason to give that up, even if she loved Morgan. That was an unreasonable request on his part.

She sat down at the dinning room table, and rested her face on the cool wood. She fought back tears, as she took in the silence of the house.


	5. Knees of my Bees

Part 5  
Knees of My Bees  
_  
"You are a spirit who knows of no limit  
Who knows of no ceiling, who balks at dead ends  
You are a wordsmith who cares for his brothers  
Not seduced by illusion or fair weather friends"_

Jill felt a freedom she had never known before-- despite the fact that, like prison, she was not allowed to leave the lair. She knew that Jack had the best intentions for her. Regardless of his obsession with the blond called Samantha, Jill knew that Jack loved her. She wasn't sure if she should even dare to say it, but she really loved Jack.

Jill loved the thrill of their power games, how Jack would let how gain her own strength, and yet still show her that she was his plaything. It gave her an incredible feeling, she had never felt so in charge, and so in control of her destiny, yet so submissive at the same time. She felt happy to serve Jack in whatever way he wanted. He was like a god to her. No, he was God. Jack showed her the power of creation, the sensational rush that came with toying with someone's life, whether it came by killing someone that they loved, or wrecking havoc some other way in their life.

Jill was turned on by his power, by his fierceness. His blond hair especially turned her on, and she found herself becoming wet just even thinking about running her fingers through his mane of hair. It turned her on even more to know he was out killing someone. He claimed it was to make Samantha his, but she knew that it was for her.

If she was really good, next time she would actually get to kill someone, and he would be there, lovingly watching over her.


	6. SoCalled Chaos

Part 6  
So- Called Chaos

_"Deadlines and meetings and contracts all breached  
D-Days and structure, responsibility  
Have-to's and need to's and get to's by three  
Eleventh hours and upset employees _

I want to be naked running through the streets,  
I want to invite this so-called chaos that you think I dare not be  
I want to be weightless flying through the air  
I want to drop all these limitations but the shoes upon my feet" 

The ice in the glass clinked together as Bailey took it to his lips, and drank the last of his scotch. He set the glass back down on the coffee table, and stared at the stack of papers next to the glass. Why had he brought them home? What was wrong with him? Bailey had enough problems worrying about Frances, without taking work home with him. He didn't need that kind of stress.

Bailey got up from the couch, and stretched his arms a little. He couldn't remember ever being this stressed. He heard someone come into the living room behind him. "How was school today, Frannie?"

"Okay."

Bailey waited for her response before he turned to face his 18 year old daughter, who today had decided that she wants to look like a biker chick.Her jeans were ripped and she wore a leather jacket. Her raven hair was surrounded by a bandana. He hadn't remembered her leaving the house like that. But then, He couldn't even recall if he saw her before she left the house today, he can't even remember the last time he saw her leave the house, he has been so busy. "Nothing to complain about, just okay?" Bailey pushed gently.

"I don't complain about it every day." Her voice wasn't angry when she said it, instead implied playfully _you should have known that_. "What about you, how was work?" She spotted the pile of folders. "That bad, huh?"

"I shouldn't have brought that stuff home with me. I just want to get this case solved." He rubbed his tired eyes with his hand. Bailey didn't want to work on the case, and the more and more he thought about it, he realized that nothing in the pile of case materials can't be put off till tomorrow "You know what."

"What?"

"You remember when you were little and sometimes I would take you and Arianna mini golfing."

"Yeah, that was fun." She smiled, remembering fondly.

"If you aren't doing anything tonight, how about we go play a round or two?"

"I don't want to keep you from your work." Frannie seemed concerned.

"It can wait, I don't remember the last time I spent time with you, and after that we can go for ice cream if you want, or are you too old for that."

"No, that sounds like fun." She gives him a warm smile.

He returned the smile, and went for his coat, and he already felt more relaxed.


End file.
